Tag: poetry

Double, double… rhymes are trouble by Katie M. Deaver

I never considered myself one of those people who gets really “into” Halloween. But, as one might expect having an eight year old, especially an eight year old who celebrates her birthday shortly before the holiday, has made me much more in tune with the excitement and preparation which surrounds Halloween.

One of the traditions that I do very much enjoy is watching Halloween movies like Hocus Pocus and Double, Double, Toil and Trouble and, new to us last year, drinking warm mulled wine after coming home from a chilly (and this year possibly snowy!) night of Trick or Treating.

In my work as a church musician Halloween is book-ended by the celebration of Reformation and All Saints Day, so it tends to be a fairly busy time for my work schedule. As a result this is often the time of year that I reconsider my self-care and centering routines in the hopes of somehow preparing myself for the coming holiday season and the end of the year. This year, as I checked in on my current practices I realized that I haven’t been reading as much poetry as I used to when I was in grad school. As a result I have been trying to get back in the habit of reading some poetry a few times each week to help center myself. As luck would have it the last few weeks have found me stumbling upon poetry with connections to the Halloween season. I want to share with you a portion of two seasonal poems that I have encountered and are sticking with me.

Continue reading “Double, double… rhymes are trouble by Katie M. Deaver”

Personal Musings by Deanne Quarrie

Deanne Quarrie

If I Tell You

If I tell you what I feel
Don’t be offended or take on some sort of guilt.
If I tell you what I feel
Don’t think that my feelings imply blame.

If my feelings rise to the surface
Allow space for the thought that they are mine
For in their expression, simply wish to be spoken.

As I learn to tell you my feelings
I will search for an honesty of expression
Sharing – simply sharing what is felt.

For without words coming to the surface
there will never be a way to know me. Continue reading “Personal Musings by Deanne Quarrie”

THREE POEMS OF LIFE by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

As Above So Below

Yes, I believe we are made in god’s image.

If god is the wild, passionate, loud, sexual, sizzling, dancing fires of creation.

And should I ever forget my fiery, heavenly vision, the sun comes out every day to remind me.

 

And I ask myself, which is more miraculous? Our local star feeding earthly life?

Or me, reflecting the sun, feeling the passion, sizzling in response?

Jacob Dreams and So Do We

(inspired by Genesis 28:12)

As darkness slips into light,

dawn,

with its unique melody,

grows brighter.

As light slips into darkness,

dusk,

with its mysterious possibilities,

settles softly upon the land.

 

Creation is oneness, but we need duality to experience sex, symphonies, hot fudge sundaes.

Creation is pure love, but it is to the passions of the human heart that we owe our earthwalk

 

Dawn and dusk hold open the thresholds of mystery inviting our human hearts to experience . . .

The sacred dance where one becomes two becomes three.

The sacred song where three becomes two becomes one.

 

Pele’s Birth Dance

Twinkling stars ignite waves of fire that explode into a tumultuous, joyful noise:

“EH YEH, EH YEH, EH YEH.”

 

And Mother Earth awakens.

 

Matter bathed in Pele’s cauldron flares up, erupting into waves of baby earth while roaring:

“EH YEH, I AM, EH YEH.”

 

As seeds rise from great watery oceans of fire, my heart swells, breathing air into newly forged matter and causing my breath to become song:

“I AM, EH YEH, I AM.”

 

Fire,

that reflects flame-drenched stars,

that reflects Pele’s dance,

that reflects the passionate seed,

echoes within my belly until I glow with waves of love which burst forth to sing:

“I AM, I AM, I AM.”

 

And then . . .

Riding a watery wave that gushes forth new life, my newborn erupts from my body, then twinkles, then cries tumultuous joyful noise:

“EH YEH, EH YEH, WAHHHHhhhhhh.”

(Note: “Eh yeh” is God’s name in phonetic Hebrew as given to Moses in Genesis 3:14. “I am” is its traditional translation into English)

 

Janet Rudolph has written three books on the subject of ancient Biblical Teachings.  One Gods: The Mystic Pagan’s Guide to the Bible, When Eve Was a Goddess: A Shamanic Look at the Bible, and the just recently released book, When Moses Was a Shaman. For more information visit her website at /www.mysticpagan.com/

 

Poem:  “How to Survive a Four Letter Word” by Marie Cartier

What is taken from a woman?

When someone breaks her open and fills her with nothing of herself,

and then leaves?

She has to find all the pieces of herself.

That’s why they call it—recovery.

 

 

You have to recover.

It doesn’t always happen. You’re not put back together

exactly the same. The pieces were broken.

Still are, just glued back together.

It’s a four letter word:  rape.

Continue reading “Poem:  “How to Survive a Four Letter Word” by Marie Cartier”

Birds, Their Song Stills My Heart by Deanne Quarrie

Bluejay

I see you perched on the tree
checking the perimeter for cats lurking.
The feeder below, inviting you down
but you, ever cautious,
make sure that none are about.

Suddenly the sparrows swarm in,
eagerly eating the seed offered.
They flit and flap, and fly about,
scattering seed as they cover the feeder.

Throwing caution to the wind,
down you fly,
eager for your share of the offerings.

You find treats on the ground,
seeds from the tallow above,
a seed so large,
from my window, I see it in your mouth.

I watch you prance, a friend joining you,
Your perky crest and colorful plumage,
your morning dance brings pleasure
as I ponder my coming day.
over my first cup of coffee.

Continue reading “Birds, Their Song Stills My Heart by Deanne Quarrie”

Slippery Package: A prayer poem by Isabella Ides

She speaks a various language.

 

Bound in the bardo bereft

vaguely present, almost dead.

For fucking shining aloud

let me

 

back in. Come again, sweet terror

Carve my shadow on your cave walls

Render me a soul, source me

mystify, crush, obscure me

in that deep gorge

confine, stretch, reveal me

Let me wobble

stand.

  Continue reading “Slippery Package: A prayer poem by Isabella Ides”

Raven’s Cry by Sara Wright


Fake coyote calls split
a moon cracked sky in two.
False ‘Indian’ hoots and drums
stunned sleeping birds –
Why do ‘whites’
insist upon using Indigenous ways,
to make a point?
Coyotes know.

Did they think that she was blind
or that her dreaming body,
a roiling belly
wouldn’t warn her?
Deception is a ruse
to twist and hide from truth
even when La Llarona’s river
becomes a mirror
shivering under
 winter solstice flight. Continue reading “Raven’s Cry by Sara Wright”

Seed Bearer by Sara Wright


Yesterday old eyes
stung –
fierce white
heat –
blurred vision.
Singing love songs,
I scattered seeds
in furrows
raked smooth,
tucked tufts
under stone…

Imagining
a Wildflower riot!
Bittersweet orange,
blue and gold
winding through
rice grass –
sage scrub,
vining over
wave -like gopher mounds. Continue reading “Seed Bearer by Sara Wright”

I Celebrate Love by Elise M. Edwards

Happy Valentine’s Day!  I know, I know… so many of us do not like this holiday.  It’s too commercialized, we say.  We don’t need card-makers or florists to tell us how or when to show affection.  Some of us don’t like Valentine’s Day because it reminds us of loves we have lost or never found.  I get it.  This day can seem shallow, overhyped, and falsely sentimental.  It can be lonely.  And yet, I won’t let today pass without celebrating and honoring love.  Love is too important to concede to commercial interests.

Love, in its many forms, keep us alive and able to endure. Love is powerful because it is expansive, growing in unexpected places and ways.  We tend to separate our celebrations of romantic love, friendship, familial love, self-love, and religious devotion.  We make distinctions between our valentines and “galentines.”  Rarely do we shout for joy in ecstatic worship while also celebrating the passionate longings of our innermost desires.  But occasionally, in my religious tradition, we let our disparate loves come together.  We unite them on holy feast days, enjoying the sensual pleasures of good food and company to mark spiritual occasions.  So that’s my inspiration.  Today, I’m celebrating love by reflecting on various forms of love merged together and sharing insight from poets and mystics about the power and beauty experienced in love.

Continue reading “I Celebrate Love by Elise M. Edwards”

I Shall Make Prayer of It by Natalie Weaver


This is a poem I published almost ten years ago. It is as if I wrote it yesterday.  The image is more or less of the same sentiment as the poem.

I publish these again here in memory of my father.

 

~~~~

I am always cleaning
though not fast enough
to really organize
what I cannot put away.
It is messy in closets
that cover the appearance of order.
I am still sitting on wool carpet watching

The dusts dance in little beams of hope.
The same ones that lighted by wonder
in warmth and youth a beauty made
of windows and particles.
Probably the same ones that caused dirt and flu.
But what matter is it in the world that is merely
the simultaneity of being in which at once
the limos and the hearses depart for the church. Continue reading “I Shall Make Prayer of It by Natalie Weaver”